


Fair

by kriegersan



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Cheating, Darkfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriegersan/pseuds/kriegersan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyril asks Lana out after her and Archer break up, for good. Pre-Season 1. A character study of Cyril Figgis.</p>
<p>Fair warning for some pretty blatant in-character misogyny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair

The first time Cyril tried to talk to Lana after The Breakup it went a little like this.

“Hey!”

“Uh… hey.”

She walked right by him, popping the lid off her glass bottle of soda with her bare hands. She didn’t look at him.

“So, I was thinking that maybe sometime we could go… and you’re not even listening to me. There she goes, way out of my league, into the next universe of leagues that go stratospherically onward into the depths of time forever. Sigh.”

The next time Cyril met Lana outside of work talk it was at the bar, her ex-boyfriend on the other side flirting with a few of the girls at the office who’d come along. He was aware she was watching him from an abandoned corner with narrowed, vengeful eyes, third or fourth drink clutched in her massive hands. God she had big hands. Sometimes she was a little scary.

She was so, so out of his depth but she was so unlike any other woman he’d ever met, he’d been fascinated with her since they’d first met all those years ago. Of course, he’d never understood why a woman of her calibre put up with a total fucking shit-for-brains asshole like Archer, but Cyril rarely understood much about women, aside from the fact that most of them didn’t really like him.

“What? Excuse me? Are you looking at me?” she snapped, and Cyril tore his gaze away, barely aware he’d been staring at her for the past few minutes, maybe a foot away. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Sorry! I’m sorry. M-my name is Cyril Figgis, and--”

“I know what your name is, drone, now what do you want from me?”

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink? Um. If not, I can go away… if this is getting awkward for you. This is awkward for you isn’t it.”

“How do you know that it’s awkward for me?”

“Well… do you think it’s awkward?”

“I didn’t, until you said it was awkward.” 

“Uh… I’ll just… go away now.” He started to turn, but she touched his shoulder.

She smiled. “You sure apologize a lot.” 

“It’s just a nervous habit of mine. Should I stop?” 

“No, you’re kind of… refreshingly honest.” 

Cyril couldn’t help but feel hopeful at this. God, she was so incredibly hot, taller than him, huge, perky breasts just right up near his face. Every guilty fantasy he’d had about a woman since he’d been working at ISIS fixated on her, and for so long she’d been on and off with that idiot, caught in his shitstorm of drama, and finally, finally it seemed like she was out of it. Fresh for a good rebound fuck anyway. 

“So what do you do outside of work anyway?” 

“Uh, what do I do outside of work?” Cyril racked his brain. “Um… stuff?” 

Stuff? What the hell was he thinking? He was the most boring man ever to exist, ever.

“Stuff, hey? I do stuff too. Will you buy me a fucking drink already?” 

The waitress passed by, and he flagged her down. He bought her a drink. And then another drink. And then a few more, until she was giggly and pleasant, leaning on him, breast rubbing up against his arm. Cyril couldn’t believe it. Maybe he actually had a shot at this. 

“Hey, so,” she started, pushing her index finger around the rim of her drink. “I think I’m gonna go.”

“Can I take you home? Erm, not to my home… although if you want to, that’s totally acceptable! But I mean, I’d take you to your home, because I just want to make sure you get home safely!” 

“Cyril, I don’t need protecting,” she said, finishing off her drink. “And I’m not going to fuck you.” She slid out of the booth.

“No, I was just saying you’re welcome to stay if you need a… ah, yeah, forget I asked.”

“Have a good night,” she said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, before sauntering her way out of the bar. Her douchebag ex’s eyes followed her exit over his glass, and he went outside after her. God, they didn’t go a day without him deliberately picking a fight with her. If Cyril could pick one person to legitimately torture and kill, it would be Archer, every time.

The next time Cyril saw her, she came to his office to look up some information about her accounts with the company. He couldn’t help but be unprofessional, his eyes drawn to the space between her thighs as she crossed her legs. It wasn’t his fault she was so beautiful.

“So… how’s your day going, Lana?” he asked, shakily.

“Um… it’s going great, Cyril. My ex-boyfriend somehow keeps leaving other girls panties in my purse and is also stealing money from my account, not to use, but just to hide in other accounts to make life generally difficult for me, which is why I’m here, but it’s otherwise great. I’ve managed to only break three defenseless pieces of office equipment today, so I’m considering this a full step up from yesterday.”

“Um… wow.”

“Yeah. _Wow._ ”

“He must be, uh… really mad at you.”

“Ya think?”

“...So you broke up with him? I mean, of course you broke up with him, duh!” 

“Yes, I broke up with him. Ugh, why are we talking about this, you don’t need to hear about my stupid personal dramatic shit, I’ll shut up.” 

“Hey, it always helps to have someone listen,” he said, not at all selfishly wanting to hear more of that delicious, horrible drama.

Her eyes weakened. “I don’t know it just… I just couldn’t deal with it anymore, you know? Everybody knew he cheated on me constantly, ugh, they were all laughing at me, I just… holy shit, I’m sorry, dumping my purse out completely on you, I should go, this is so embarrassing.”

“Lana, it’s okay, you know.” He reached out and touched her hand. She didn’t move it. “You can talk to me. I like talking to you.”

She shook her head. “I just gotta get my shit together.”

“It’s not anything you’re doing, though… he’s the one that’s making you upset, Lana.” 

“I can deal with it, Cyril,” she said, wiping the corners of her eyes. She sniffed, “I guess I just never thought he’d be such an _asshole_ about it.”

“Isn’t he always an asshole?”

“Right?” she said, laughing. 

“Say, did you want to get a coffee some time? And just talk?” 

“Sure.”

This was how Cyril got himself his first date with Lana. Although she requested it be nowhere anyone they knew would be, in a fairly dim lit cafe, he didn’t let himself analyze that too long.

“I never thought I would feel this empty,” she said, on her third glass of wine. “Like even though I totally, totally hated being with him by the end of it, he was always there when I really needed him, I guess. And now he won’t even look at me.”

“Yeah, I can see why that would be rough,” Cyril stipulated, staring pointedly at his coffee. 

“Ugh, and maybe I was just stupid, because I expected him to change and to get serious about our relationship and step it up, but oh no, Malory, that stupid cunt, excuse my language, sorry, would abandon him if he ever really committed to another woman. And that stupid mommy’s boy can’t have that, he’s just so pathetic begging for her approval all the time. Shit, shit, I should not be saying this!” 

“No, Lana, like I said. Safe space. Say what you need to say.”

“I’ve never been able to talk so openly with someone like this. Cyril, uh… this is really nice.”

Yeah, and she was also pretty drunk and just generally unhappy, letting her repressed emotions come out through the cracks. Cyril certainly wasn’t doing much sharing. Still, it was interesting to learn that much of the empowered woman shit she put on was a front. She was barely holding it together, really just needing a man to tell her it was going to be okay. God, women were all so predictable, but she was still special to him, still different enough.

She got drunker, and soon he was throwing her into his car, taking her to his place. She wasn’t falling down shitfaced yet, just distracted, happy, poured all over him telling him how glad she was that he wasn’t Archer. He put her gently in his bed, pulled off her shoes, covered her with the blanket. He flicked off the light, shut the door, and collapsed onto his couch, taking his dick out of his pants to relieve some of the ache. God he wanted to fuck her, but not like this. He wasn’t a monster.

They hung out more and more after work following that particular outing, Lana venting to him about Archer irritating her, Cyril telling her fat jokes about Pam. They talked about books and TV too, but the conversation always wandered back to him, as it always, always did. 

Eventually months later, Cyril with a perpetual case of blue balls at this point permanently residing in the friendzone, found himself at the bar with his coworkers, waiting for Lana to come back from the bathroom so that they could leave. He didn’t know jerkface was there, stalking up to him, drunk and dangerous.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing Cyril by the shirt collar, “I’m not really sure what you think you’re doing... but I see what you’re trying to do. What you are doing. Shit, I’m kinda drunk for this. What you’re doing to Lana.”

Cyril practically pissed his pants. Archer could literally kill him with his pinkie. “Doing? I’m not doing anything to anyone!”

Lana wrenched Archer’s hand off his shirt, shoving it back into his chest. “Exactly. Now leave him alone, asshole. We’re going.” 

“Going where, Lana?”

“Where do you think?”

“To set yourself on fire before you even think about fucking a frickin’ cave troll like him, Lana, I hope!” he shot back, Lana’s face creasing in hurt. She grabbed Cyril by the wrist, brushing past him, and luckily no one had noticed their little scene. 

It was raining outside, and she practically ran ahead of him, Cyril jogging to catch up to her. “Whoa, Nelly! Hey there, slow down. It’s okay!”

“I, urgh, I get so _angry_ oh my God I’m so sorry that he did that to you, that wasn’t fair at all.” 

“You can’t control him, Lana. What he did had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him being jealous of _me_!”

“You’re right,” she said, breathlessly. “You are so right.”

It was after that she started paying more attention to him at work, wearing lower cut dresses, making him hard in his trousers while he pretended to pay attention in meetings. She talked down to him a lot, still, freaked out as Archer flaunted his new relationships and fucks, but sometimes now when they hung out she’d strip down to just a tank top, dark, pointed nipples visible below the fabric. She was just doing it to tease him. She had to be.

“So I’m calling it ‘I Make Stirfry Friday’. What do you think? Catchy, right?” he said, chuckling to himself as he cooked dinner, the two of them at her place on a usual Friday night. They were maybe kind of dating at this point, they hadn’t talked about it, had kissed drunkenly once or twice. She had to fuck him sooner or later. 

“Lame.”

“...Oh.”

“Yup.”

A little insulted, he steeled his nerves. “So… listen, we’ve been doing this… whatever it is for awhile, and I’m just y’know, curious, and I’m wondering if all of this is ever going to end up with us, uh… together? I mean, I like you a lot, Lana. I hope you know I’m always there for you.”

“I know, Cyril.”

“Uh…” 

“I’m just being a dick. Do you want to fuck me?”

His hands flew off the pan they were holding, and boiling water sloshed all over the burner. “Shit!” He grabbed a tea towel, mopping it up. He flicked the burners off, and followed her where she’d disappeared into the bedroom.

The shocked expression on her face when he took off his pants was something he would carry with him to the grave. She was wet and perfect and tight when he fucked her viciously into the headboard, her panting on her back beneath him, hand covering her eyes. He came quick, and she looked disappointed, but he made her come with his fingers, face buried in her beautiful tits. 

“This is the best day of my life.”

Lana got up and left.

Cyril went to work the next day, and she didn’t speak to him. He got home, and she showed up a little around 8:30. They had sex again, she left again, wash, rinse, repeat.

Eventually she stopped leaving, started smiling more, started spending the night. They went out on actual dates. 

Cyril started cheating more. He wasn’t like Archer, he wasn’t going to get caught. He wasn’t stupid. He was just a man, with needs. Besides, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

People in the office gossiped. Archer started drinking at work. Lana didn’t talk about him as much, only brought him up when he was actively antagonizing her. Which was most days. Cyril didn’t mind, it just fed his hatred for that asshole.

One day Archer, trashed and looking for a fight, hunted him down after Cyril finished up working late, pinned him against the alley wall on the way out. 

“Every time you eat her miserable, childless cunt, I just want you to know, you’re tasting my cock. I was there first. She thinks about me _every time_ you disappoint by prematurely coming inside of her, and you better not forget that, you useless, fat, piece of beta male _garbage_.” 

He punched Cyril square in the face. Archer at least had the decency to look like he regretted what he’d said, pulling at his hair, cursing to himself as he stormed off down the street. Cyril spat blood into the gutter, glasses broken in half. He had time to get them fixed again before he saw Lana, luckily, but nothing could cover the black eyes.

“Lana, honey, I’ll be fine,” he reassured her, as she loaded her TEC-9’s. “Don’t kill him. He’s already dying inside.”

“I’m not gonna kill him, baby. Just put a couple bullets in his cock and balls. And his knees. And his elbows. And his eyes.” 

“That’s actually a really satisfying revenge fantasy.”

“It’s doing it for me, if I’m gonna be honest.”

Lana chambered the ammo, and burst into tears. Cyril sat there, paralyzed. 

“I wish I could just... _kill_ the part of me that still wants him to need me. Who could _say_ something like that…” 

She hiccoughed, wiping her eyes with her guns in her hands. Cyril cleared his throat, leaned forward in the kitchen chair. “Lana, I’m not him, but I promise I can love you _better_ than him.”

“Better than him only requires loving me at all, so that won’t be that goddamn hard. I’m pretty unlovable, Cyril. I’m miserable and childless, remember?” 

“Not to me,” he said, with a purple, bloody smile. “Well, I mean... you’re still childless, but, y’know.”

She stared at him. “Thanks.”

“Sorry, I didn’t… shit. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. You tried,” she said, reaching across the table to touch him.

And try he did, until Malory started putting Lana and Archer on missions together, their fighting dying down into tense, sexual bickering again. She would take him back. She would always take him back, and so Cyril couldn’t trust her. 

He cared about Lana, though, enjoyed spending time with her, the frequency of her smiles increasing each time they hung out. She started trusting him more, telling him personal things about her life, about her estranged family. He opened up a bit about his mom dying in the fire, and she at least tried to not look too gleeful about it.

Archer would always glare at him in meetings. Would push him out of his way in the hallways. Called him names. In general, though, he stopped actively harassing him, seemed to be okay with the way he was treating Lana. He mostly just looked bitter. 

Cyril let himself feel just a little vindictive about that. Just a little. He was better than that waste of air, who cheated visibly left and right and then acted like he was the one who was wronged. Yeah, Cyril was better than that -- he would never rub something like that in Lana’s face. He kept his side-fucks quiet, he wouldn’t be unfair to her.

He cared about her, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was dark. Hope you enjoyed. Based off of a prompt from albertstark, "Cyril prompt, Cyril prompt... Cyril asking Lana out again and again after her and Archer broke up, and the time she finally agrees to a date pre-season 1?"
> 
> It ended up being more about their relationship as a whole, because as usual, my brain ran away with me. Hope you enjoy.


End file.
